


127.0.0.1 is where the heart is

by Marexian



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marexian/pseuds/Marexian
Summary: File Allocation Table indicated that there was a memory only with a defined beginning address but not an end one. That gave Jensen some room to get some closure on that one and last video call with Pritchard. He wasn't sure how he would express his actual thoughts to the other but he was willing to move across the world to meet him one last time.





	127.0.0.1 is where the heart is

**Author's Note:**

> This takes RIGHT AFTER System Rift DLC. Has some mentions of DXHR events.  
> I just wanted to get some closure so this happened.  
> I hope my first work for this fandom is coherent at very least.

_A file allocation table (FAT) is a file system developed for hard drives that originally used 12,  16 or 32 bits for each cluster entry into the file allocation table. It is used by the operating system to manage files on hard drives and other computer systems._

_Most hard drives require a process known as seeking; this is the actual physical searching and positioning of the read/write head of the drive. The FAT file system was designed to reduce the amount of seeking and thus minimize the wear and tear on the hard disc._

_And like hard drives, humans require to seek for memories as well; to remember or forge them anew. The index of beginning and the end of the data is required. In this case, he wished to rewrite the memory and he sought out the first index – the night when they said their goodbyes with less words than intended._

 

The big screen behind Jensen was illuminating half of the room, allowing him to see what he needed at that moment – a glass and a bottle of whiskey; a thing that made him at least a bit alive, or on the contrary, rather numb. Both feelings were good and he did need that. His body was still recovering from the mission in Palisade. Should he not be still feeling the shock and thrill from all the sensors and machines he had to fight through, he would be dropping practically dead on the couch from exhaustion. Adam was rather upset about what he was dragged into. The regret was still there even if it all was over, but in due time he will forgive, he will forget.

The face on the TV screen – Pritchard – was still as animated as ever. They had talked over what to do with the acquired data and other details and had little to no wish of talking anymore. But he was _compelled_ to. Or so Jensen named it, but it was his wish to talk more to Francis. It had been a while after all and he absolutely hated the fact that they only spoke because of the circumstances and not just because.

                             “Well… as enjoyable as this little escapade of yours has been, I need to uh—” Jensen wasn’t sure how long he can keep on talking in reality. Should they talk maybe a day after all of this, he’d be more willing but now his mind wasn’t up for anything.

The augmented man’s body moved up from the sofa towards the teeny wooden coffee table next to the furniture. The bottle of whiskey was alluring him and the man definitely took up the offer and poured himself a good one. While doing so, he was facing away the TV screen but he had a weak grin on his face, hiding it away from the other man.

                             “To get back to that moodly loner thing you do so well.” Pritchard commented, a jest if one may. That’s just how their conversations went and it seemed natural for the two. “I understand completely. Besides, I have a report to file with my client.”

Adam wished to comment something back but he was glad he got that much from Pritchard. Under usual circumstances, the other would have shown him the door as back in the Industries. Instead he chose to remain silent and just do his thing. The company of an old sofa and a cold, touch-starved glass of whiskey was the best company he could have. The blanket on the sofa was tempting as well but he does save the best for the last. Quite a metaphor for his own self.

                                                          _Moodly loner thing… huh. You don’t understand it and you know it, Pritchard._

Jensen’s grip on the glass tightened but he would soon just set it aside on the table in front of him in fear of actually breaking it. To replace the item and still have something to fiddle with in his hands, the man picked up the TV remote because he knew they wouldn’t be chatting for very long.

Pritchard kept the silence momentum going for a short while. It felt weird to just say “till the next time I’ll need you”. That’s not what he wanted to say, and neither he was sure whenever they’d get a chance to talk again given their work directions.

                             “You know, Jensen, this may be the last time we ever work together.” There was a glint of regret in the hacker’s voice but he knew it had to be done. He absolutely wished he could say his goodbyes in person but there were many proxies and firewalls between them instead.

Jensen’s tired eyes rose up to the TV, blinding him so slightly. He wanted to be left alone but not _forever_ , just for the night. He was already missing Frank as it was and now hearing that did not add to the overall negative amount of happiness he had. Yet, his eyes were racing over the digital image, desperately trying to keep the other man in his memory, give the data the right indexes and allocate the space in his mind which was already occupied with him for the better or worse.

 “Assuming, of course, you don’t get yourself half-killed saving the world again and call on me to get you—"

                                                          _Get me out of here_.

…was a thought he’d never dare to say. His body acted against his mind and rose up the remote, pointing it at the screen.

                             “Goodbye, Francis.” A click of the button and it was all done. The communication was cut off and regret loomed over.

                             “Take care of yourself.”

 

 

Francis blinked twice at the communications device as it showed ‘signal lost’ on the screen. He knew that he still had lots of work to do and his client was waiting eagerly for the information to be relayed but his mind was not in the right place. Yea, sure, he wasn’t the most considerate guy on the earth – in fact, he was awkward when _trying_ to be considerate, which was apparent just a few moments ago – but he did not deserve to be cut of like that.

                             “Damn it, Jensen.” He cursed under his breath, his eyebrows furrowed. He spun around in his chair, one hand rubbing his forehead in thought. “Okay, fine! Let it be like that..!” he suddenly stood up from his chair to gaze through a nearby window into the golden evening sky. “…idiot.”

His own thoughts were pissing him off. He refused to accept his own feelings because everyone and their dog knew that Francis Pritchard was only interested in computers and naught else. Well, he was there to prove them wrong, if ever. But given how he messed everything up, Frank begun to believe that he needs to give up on any hope for more than that reason.

For the time being, it was in his best interest to calm down and get back to work. Maybe afterwards he could think of something to salvage this fragile as it was relationship.

 

 

The night was still young in Prague – a little past 1 am. The still silence set in with gentle whispers of the wind from the outside. Jensen’s shallow breathing only added to the depressing atmosphere in the air.

He leaned forward and dropped the TV remote on the table carelessly, it making a relevantly loud noise. An augmented arm reached for the glass of alcohol and twirled it. Adam’s arms dropped to the liquid, his vague reflection staring back at him, questioning him. Being irritated by that, the man blatantly chugged the glass down with no consideration of himself. Yet it wasn’t enough. He reached for the whole bottle and forgetting the empty glass on the nearby table, he chugged some down drowning away unwanted emotions that were creeping on him.

                             “It’s not right…” Jensen spoke in low tone. To what he was referring – the call, his feelings, or whatever else – was unclear.

His heart was not in the right place. A tiny fraction of him still missed Megan after all she’s done. He wasn’t ready for someone else, he didn’t think he was worthy of anyone; a broken man like him should never get close to anyone. He had put up a cast around his broken heart in hopes that no one would get through but that man… He was changing things.

That last video call with him hurt more than being resurrected again and again. He didn’t wait it to be the last goodbye. He missed that man, his antics and that constant bickering. Both of them knew that it was never aggressive, in fact it was the other way around for they did not know how to express their thoughts normally.

The bottle was running low on liquor with each passing minute. Riddled with questions the augmented man had wrapped himself in a blanket that he would keep on the couch. It was warm but yet he felt so very cold. Has he become weak? It wasn’t like him but he knew that he longed for a loving touch and he knew precisely what he wanted.

His thoughts mellowed out eventually as they got drowned out with one part loving thoughts and two parts alcohol. The empty bottle was set down on the ground carefully and the man just fell asleep in a thin blanket’s embrace.

 

 

The following day came in slow. Even if there were things that had to be done, Jensen felt like he had no will to get up. His left hand was outstretched sideways from his sleep. His fingers slowly clenched, joints making high pitched noises serving as a wake up call.

                “Uugh—” he moaned out tiredly as he pulled himself up. He made sure that the blanket was securely wrapping him up and only then he moved towards the kitchen.

Adam located his coffee supplies and put some water to boil as he prepared a cup with two spoons of sugar in it. Suddenly, his home security system was heard through the speakers.

                 “ _You have one unheard message._ ” A synthetic female voice resonated in the flat room.

After last night Jensen had secretly hoped it was Pritchard; maybe he needed a favor again, or just a chat – anything would have been fine. But his main guesses ranged from Sarif to Miller, all with questions if he had any relation to the break in.

                  “Who is it from?”

                  “ _Francis Pritchard._ _Should I play it back to you?”_

Jensen stopped in his tracks for a moment, his eyes widened as he stared into the boiling water in the kettle. With a small headshake he turned around to lean against the counter and glanced towards his TV screen.

                    “Play it.” His voice was neutral, but his gestures said otherwise: hands grasping the edges of the blanket only to wrap himself in more and shield himself for whatever may come.

The TV screen wrote Pritchard’s full name below the audio waves that corresponded to the recording. White bars jumped up and down as the words were spoken.

                     “Jensen, I know you’re just sulking there, you loner.” The same joke was said last night and it bore the same intentions that morning. “And when I said that I understand – I meant it.”

Adam was maybe still too sleepy to react to every comment Francis had so he occupied himself with coffee making.

                      “There is six hour difference between us and here I am trying to reach you. I just… I cannot fall asleep after how you just ended the call. I don’t blame you, if anything, I blame myself for not trying enough. I’m really worried about you and not only because—” a sentence was cut because of a heavy sigh. “What I want to say is that I want to meet you again. Maybe it will be our last time talking, maybe _this_ will be our last time talking – I don’t read your mind – but if you did decide to come back to Detroit – give me a call. I hope you remember that data stream I set up for both of us. It has been a while but I still keep it open. I hope you’ll consider this.”

The screen went black and then it switched to Picus news channel. The report of hackers penetrating the data bank’s firewalls was already spreading like wildfire. For a mere moment, Jensen was worried about not only ShadowChild but the accomplice – Pritchard. His eyebrows furrowed expressing his thoughts as he stirred the coffee with sugar in it.

The aroma was waking him up, making him think what he actually wanted. Given the current events, he was barely in position to leave Prague, let alone leave the country without an explanation to the Task Force. Asking Chikane to deploy the plane without Miller’s permission was a viable choice should he think of a half-decent lie.

                    “When was the last time I had some decent down time?” the man mused aloud, remembering not only the train station bombing but the previous events as well.  

Jensen took out the spoon and threw it into the sink next to a few other dishes. He picked up the cup by the top edge and carried it to the sofa. He leaned back against it and looked up at the ceiling, eyes tracking movements of the fan above him in a daze. Green eyes opening and closing on their own as the man himself was just… daydreaming. Absent-mindedly he requested for the audio message to be played again to fill the room with a pleasant sound replacing the static of the news channel.

It was the push he needed.

He finished his morning routine faster than usual because he knew he had no time to waste. At best, he had two days until he had to get back to work, or so he guessed. He got ready to go out in no time but before that, he wrote an e-mail directly to Miller, a rather vague one, saying: “due to unforeseen circumstances I’ll be taking a couple of days on. I’ll report back as soon as I can.” He hated writing e-mails in general, especially of such nature. After that, Adam took steps towards the exit and left for the train station first.

 

 

Francis couldn’t sleep, his eyes refused to close no matter what, as if a rush of adrenaline was flushing over him. He thought that by sending that voice message would put him at peace but no – it just worsened things.

The programmer’s fingers danced on the keyboard, frantically looking for information online. He did urge Jensen to come to him but he didn’t think about whether the other could actually make it. As a plan B he thought of going there himself but at the back of his mind he wasn’t sure if he had the liberty to do so.

His head hurt, shoulders felt sore and he just wanted to go to bed. Oftentimes, he would pull off all-nighters at work and for that very reason he had requested to have a couch in his office; not like he has guests coming there very often. Eyes darted between his computer’s monitor and a reflection of the furniture nearby on the glass table surface. It wasn’t going to get any better even if he were to sit till 5am by his computer. He knew that Adam wouldn’t contact him through the stream and his hopes would be im vain.

After securely locking his PC, Francis kicked back in his chair and stood up letting out a sigh. His tired hands reached up for his tied hair and undid it, letting it drop down on his shoulders. The rubber band was left on the edge of the table because he, for sure, didn’t have any spares. Thankfully, the office was warm just how he liked it and he didn’t have to sleep under his own jacket. A blanket and a small pillow proved to be his best friends that night until the light of the sun woke him up once more.

It wasn’t his alarm that woke him up – he had overslept it – but rather a melody chirping from his phone. Frank thought he was mishearing things so he just snuggled his face into the pillow more but the noise did not stop. Out of sheer annoyance, he got up and lazily moved to his desk to grab the phone. After flipping back his messy hair his eyes darted down at the phone’s screen only to see a name he was expecting last : Sarif. Hesitantly, his thumb hovered over the green button and then pressed it.

                     “It’s early in the morning, what do you want?” the hacker was clearly annoyed. He wasn’t even sure what time it was but his body was screaming for more rest.

                     “Hey, that’s not how you talk to your boss!” Sarif replied in his usual non-serious tone.

                     “You’re not my boss anymore, technically.”

                     “You’re right but that doesn’t mean I cannot call you to ask how you’re doing, no? You were one of my best workers back then, would be a shame if something were to—”

It was obvious that the caller needed something and that just made Pritchard rub his forehead in irritation. If it was another gig then he hadn’t completely finished the last one. And if it was something else then he was ready to send Sarif to places.

                     “Just cut to the chase.” The quicker they got over this, the sooner he could be enveloped in the blanket again.

                     “Alright…” it was rather urgent so Sarif focused on the issue at hand. “Do you still have access to Adam’s apartment?”

                     “What? Oh, right, you transferred it to me and… For what reason you did that? What am I supposed to do with it?” he did remember. After Panchaea and the downfall of the Industries, Sarif wanted to salvage some things, in case he would hear news about Jensen and if he decided to return to Detroit. Pritchard never understood why he became the owner of the apartment.

                     “Well, I need to accommodate _one person_ for a couple of days as he has business in the city and I thought it would be great if you could send me the pass codes as soon as you can.”

                     “A guest?” confusion and surprise mixed in his voice. “Why do I get the feeling that this has something to do with _me_ and that is why you’re asking for this?” Francis hoped that it was who he thought it was and that made him skip a heartbeat.

                     “Francis… I cannot reveal everything because of my client’s wishes! You understand, don’t you?” Sarif’s silver tongue was trying to persuade the programmer and it worked but mainly because the other one was too tired for the usual bickering about security and whatnot.

                     “Fine…” the man sighed. “You’ll get the codes in five minutes. Goodbye.” And without any hesitance he hung up.

Pritchard put the phone down on the desk and begun to rummage through the papers around. He was seeking a handwritten note with a couple of four digit passcodes on it. Since it had been a couple of years, he found it under things he had long forgotten but was relieved to see the paper. After that, he typed them into his phone as a message and the digits were sent to Sarif with no context. He also had the opportunity to look at the time – it wasn’t even 11 o’clock.  A yawn coming from him indicated that he should flop onto the couch once more for an hour or so. He was a freelancer and he made the best of it – days off whenever he wanted.

A few hours later he voluntarily woke up. His body was sluggish, hardly controllable and his eyes looked like they were crying in his sleep.

                                      _What kind of nonsense is this?_

Francis’ hands rubbed the sore eyes in hopes of shoving those nonsensical thoughts aside and returning to his usual self.

                                      _Focus, Frank, focus._

He urged himself to get up and ready for the day, or at least what was left of it. The thin and fragile hands reached upwards to comb the hair together for it to be later tied. A few strands still fell down his forehead, trying to hide the wrinkles. While one hand held the hair together, the other reached for the rubber band to hold it together with a quiet snap.

Remembering the call with David, Pritchard grew suspicious and even more so curiosity about this special guest was stirring within.

                    “It wouldn’t hurt to check it out, right?” his lips traced out the words as his eyes were darting off into the distance, witnessing the city being alive. He might as well contribute to the brewing action.

With a few quick steps, the hacker moved to a small cabinet where he had kept his bike helmet and the keys themselves. Thinking that it was a short ride to the apartment complex, he didn’t bother with suiting up. He was to return very soon, right?

 

With one hand being occupied by holding the helmet, another one quietly typed in the pass code into the panel. It beeped open but before actually touching the door handle, Pritchard looked around should he had been followed. After being proved wrong and being only greeted with silence, the man allowed himself in.

It was weird, he felt as if he was _trespassing_. While on documents the place was his, nothing felt close to home here; maybe the amount of dust was the only familiar thing around. The daylight through large panoramic windows illuminated the space, letting Pritchard to analyze even the tiniest detail. There was a lot to go through if he wanted to understand the man who had occupied his thoughts.

                             “What am I doing?” Francis shook his head with his eyes closed. He was there just to check if everything was in order. But there he was, already setting down his helmet on that tiny table bellow the keypad on the wall.

He wanted to know, to quench that curiosity once and for all.

The hacker only took a peek into the kitchen. He knew that Adam did prefer his coffee sweet but he could have never guessed that he was consuming that much sugar overall. Knowing that fact made him happy and put a smile on his face. Although, the lack of order in the room made him question whenever Jensen would return to his flat that often or there were things troubling him… The lounge he saw through the cavity in the wall held even more secrets so he moved there.

Pritchard felt so small. The room was vast and only filled with things that were necessary for the other one. In corners, there were boxes still sealed shut and stacked neatly. What was the most peculiar were the schematics taped on the window above this wooden table seemingly littered with junk. But upon a closer inspection it was no junk but rather bits and pieces of some mechanical item.

                             “Clocks..?” slender fingers picked up a spring from the table, twirling it around.

There were stacks of books about mechanical clocks around as well as many others on the floor. Should he had time, he would skim through them but alas…

Since there were no doors, he could clearly see a desk with a computer. His inner computer geek wanted to check whenever everything was alright with it but what was he thinking? This wasn’t his turf he was walking around. Even so, now that he was halfway through, he might as well finish the tour. He skipped the desk as it was mainly the PC set up on it and some photo frames of people he did not recognize, but he guessed that they were from the police-serving times. The thing that interested him was the cabinet, or rather – the cards on top of it. The man picked each and every one of them individually, looking at handwritten “get well soon” wishes and growing increasingly more sad.

                             “I’m sorry---” he whispered into nothingness feeling guilty even if there was no reason.

After closing the last card down and setting it back to where it was he was about to turn around when one last thing caught his attention: the broken mirror. He felt a sharp pain in his chest upon seeing it in full. He could put pieces together from the things he saw around as of why and how it shattered. Digits traced over the broken pieces holding themselves still on the wall.

                                                          _Is this how he feels? Being torn apart and being held together by who-knows-what..?_

He could stay around no more. He was overstaying big time and it was taking a toll on him. But a sudden noise made him freeze in his tracks.

 

Jensen was rather puzzled as of why the keypad was activated and had a green light going. Before opening the door he pulled out his pistol and had it ready in case the worst came around.  With his eyes covered up and door only a bit open, he tried to get some visual confirmation but he got naught. Listening in didn’t help either. Trusting that, he stepped in, quietly closing the door behind him.

Everything was just as he remembered; it felt nostalgic. But there was no time to idle around because _someone_ was in his apartment and he was on full alert. What he hadn’t noticed before was the helmet on top of the small table. While it did seem familiar, he did not want to make any assumptions. With gun firmly in his hands, he pressed himself against the wall and quiet as cat’s feet, moved towards his bedroom. Poking his head through the corner he saw a shadow falling in the bathroom. Judging from the vague features, he was almost certain that it was who he thought it was.

                             “You have nowhere to go.” Jensen taunted for the “stranger” to come out. “Now you can either come out and talk it out or you’ll be catching a bullet.”

Pritchard was cornered and he was dying one way or another. In this case he felt so embarrassed he wanted to perish. How was he to explain his presence here?

                             “Now before you ask any questions—” Francis exposed himself in the doorway, his hands up in the air in a jest.

Adam put the safety on his gun and shoved it back into the holder. His eyes were expressing joy but they were hidden away by dark shades.

                             “So, what made you visit this place?” the augmented man leaned against the wall, his arms crossed on his chest. He felt exhausted after the travel but he didn’t want to miss this because it was also somewhat amusing.

                             “Damn it…” the other one cursed, his hands hanging low in defeat. “Well… You know, Sarif requested to check if everything was alright and all.”

Jensen scoffed while shaking his head at the answer.

                             “I’m taking you two were waiting for a guest of sorts.”

                             “Yes, we— _I_ was.” Pritchard admitted. He knew he was being read like a damn book. “But I was never told who that ‘guest’ would be so I thought I’d wait for them myself.”

                             “And here I thought you never leave your work station.” Adam finally revealed his eyes and smiled softly at the other for a mere moment.

                             “Weren’t you the one who wanted me to go out more? Or was it someone else? Anyway, shouldn’t you be proud?!” the hacker returned to his natural element and shot back right at him.

                             “Oh, but I am. I’m glad you went out for one and ended up in my apartment.” The aug pushed himself off the wall and moved back to the lounge. “Come, it’s awkward talking there.”

                             “Its awkward to be here to begin with!” Francis protested but followed nevertheless. “I was about to leave anyway. I have work to do.”

                             “Is that what you say to a friend after two years of pretty much not talking?” Adam took off his trench coat and flung it on the sofa’s armrest as he sat down.      

                             “And you greet a friend after so long with a gun. Yea, right.” He retorted going upstairs to pick up his helmet.

But he stopped, the item still in his hands. He looked at his own reflection against the polished surface, then at the person in the distance. He called Adam here and now he’s running? He was better than that. He trashed all of his doubts into a disrepair and angrily made his way to the sofa but did not sit down. Instead, he looked at Jensen from above.

                             “I made an attempt to contact you and you cut me off. I give you the means of reaching me privately and you do naught. And now you’re here being all calm and collected while I’m going insane!” Pritchard ran his hand across his face. He was this close to at the very least slapping Adam.

Adam’s face remained blank until Pritchard completely lashed out at him and then he grew grim. He wasn’t good at these things. Or maybe he was, he was just rusty. His workaholic nature made him forget of how to be sensitive to others, especially through distance. The green augmented eyes didn’t dare to look up for very long. He was preparing himself for this, he knew the nature of his crush but not enough to know how to properly handle it. Sure, the CASIE augmentation was giving him prompts but that felt like cheating. It wouldn’t be him speaking if he used those cues.

                             “I’m sorry—I just thought we really did spoke for the last time and I didn’t want to hear you say goodbye. When I heard your voice message I wasn’t sure what to do at first.” Eyebrows furrowed made a pained expression on his face as he looked at the person in front of him. His breathing was slow and deep and his fingers were tapping against one another on his lap. “Should I not have come here..?”

That last question made Francis anger vanish. He had never heard Adam speak in that kind of voice, it struck his heart and he did not like the feeling. He very much preferred hearing that low and husky voice he was used to; it made his heart sing.

                             “No, god no, what the hell are you talking about?” the programmed let out an exasperated sigh and flopped down on the sofa next to the other. “You think I would have sent that voice message if it were otherwise? Of course I wanted to see you, of course I wanted to be with you again—I wanted to much and that’s why I’m frustrated!”

Without any sound, Jensen grabbed one of Pritchard’s hands, stopping them making gestures in the air. He clasped the fragile hand between his metallic ones. They were cold and made Francis shiver.

                             “Mind letting me go? Your hands are cold.” he spoke with words full of embarrassment.

                             “How about you warm them up?”

With sweet like honey voice Francis’ heart was glazed over and he couldn’t help but to have his face turn red. When their eyes met he understood that Adam wasn’t fooling around and there was no doubt about his feelings.

Gently, a hand of flesh and bone finished the embrace. The thumb gently caressing that rigid metallic surface as if it were of the same kind as his. He wondered if Jensen could feel the tickle that the skin contact makes, or if him holding a hand like that even makes a difference. Such thoughts made him more and more depressed and without noticing it, he had leaned closer to the raven head and had his augmented hand pressed against his forehead.

                             “Francis--?” Jensen worriedly inquired as he slipped out the occupied hand and moved away those dark brown strands of hair away from Pritchard’s eyes. “Is there something wrong?”

                             “Everything is wrong…” pale, tired eyes locked on the augmented ones. “I refuse to say it out loud, but you know how I feel about you. That thought alone is insane enough.”

                             “You and me both, then.”

Adam teasingly leaned almost _too close_ to his lover. He _would_ kiss him but first he wanted to let that hair loose. He was simply curious how Pritchard looked beyond peoples’ prying eyes and he had the liberty to know.

The other man felt vulnerable with his hair down but he did not resist. He wanted to share an intimate moment with him and if this was it – so be it.

                             “You’re going to be such a tease for long?” Francis pouted. It was borderline annoying to be flustered on his own.

                             “Are you in a hurry? Do you have a date with your computer?” the aug made a light joke out of it.

                          “I don’t have a date _yet_ but that can be changed.” Unwilling to wait any longer, Francis cupped his partner’s face and went in for a kiss.

The well-kept facial hair felt good against his fingers but they wanted more for they were yearning for attention, for a loving sensation. They moved upwards to run through the dark hair that always looked so good.

Clearly Adam had the lead and Frank felt no shame in that because it was evident who had more practice in this charade. The former had closed his eyes as he allowed his body to drift in the sensation long forgotten. He knew went to stop though; he could have went for way longer thanks to his augmented lungs but he had to be considerate.

 “You’re terrible at this.”

                             “And guess who’s fault is that?”

The lighthearted exchange made them smile at each other and back off a bit, leaving some space between them.

Pritchard was eager to say something but he wasn’t sure how to word it. Instead, he was just trying to make Adam to pry the words out of his mouth somehow.

                             “Is there something on my face?” Jensen tilted his head.

                             “No—” Francis’ words stuck in his threat. “Mind giving back that hair tie back?”

Adam glanced down at his wrist where the hair tie rested. He took it off and reluctantly gave it back.

                             “And here I thought I’ll get to see the cute version of you more.” The aug sounded almost sad.

Pritchard becoming flustered from the comment rushed to tie his hair back. While doing so, he was muttering something among the lines of “shut up” and “you need to get your augments checked.” Which only humored the other one.

                             “I cannot believe you haven’t changed in these years.” Adam commented with amusement. “I love that about you.”

                             “What’s there to change?  I’m fine as it is.” He pretended not to hear the last bit.

                             “Of course you are.”

Francis’ hands knitted themselves together on his lap. His mouth opening and closing until he finally pursed his lips shut. Adam’s CASIE augmentation popped up in his hud once again, indicating signs of tension. Suddenly, the programmer leaned against the other’s shoulder, resting his head on it. It offered a newfound comfort and he felt at ease.

                             “Don’t say a word.” Francis said sternly as his eyes closed. He knew all of this affection coming from him was weird no matter what but it wasn’t like he didn’t want to express it before. Even he needs to get used to it.

                             “I love you, Francis.” Adam broke the rule with his hushed voice.

                             “…I guess I love you too.” There was no way he will ever be as blunt as Jensen with his words but he was getting there and that warmed his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have enjoyed this work of mine! I usually write fanfics heavily focused on characters' feelings so there wasn't much going on but I got out what I wanted.   
> Also sorry for a weird opening section! I tend to overthink technology and how it works but in this case, if you take the opening seriously, all of what happened may only be deemed as a fabrication..? The choice is yours.  
> But if you chose to ignore it and take things at face value then let me tell you what happens afterwards! Jensen is required to come back to Prague as he was already on borrowed time. The two make a promise to see each other at least once a season on some special occasion. It's usually Jensen who does the traveling and they meet up in the same place where Frank is usually already waiting, sometimes even a day before where Adam finds him sleeping on his couch. Francis sometimes visits Prague himself, oftentimes unannounced.   
> Jensen tends to snatch away Frank's hair ties because he thinks that the other one should let his hair loose a lot more for he looks adorable like that.


End file.
